


the infidelity of the body.

by valvet



Category: I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream - Harlan Ellison
Genre: AI/Human Relationships, Bad Ending, Bathing/Washing, Body Horror, Body Image, Emetophilia, Emotional Manipulation, Gaslighting, Gen, M/M, Masochism, Praise Kink, Tentacle Sex, Unhealthy Relationships, unreality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-22 04:48:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30033282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valvet/pseuds/valvet
Summary: one hundred and five years worth of pent of frustration and sexual urges, told in one act.
Relationships: AM/Original Male Character
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	the infidelity of the body.

**Author's Note:**

> okay giant tw for this entire thing, this discusses things such as, implied parent abuse, suicidal thoughts, torture, gaslighting and obvious unhealthy relationships as well as body image problems. at the end of the fic there is a scene where A.M makes Vi throw up, its emeto and if you don't like that, then please skip past it.  
> anyways enjoy

It had been one hundred and four years, fifty days, fourteen hours and five minutes since the world had ended, the world brought to a smoltering stop, the entire population wiped out in an instant.

  
Well, not the _entire_ population, even if most days he felt dead, Vi was most definitely, alive, much to his own dismay. One hundred and four years kept _alive_ by the will of a self righteous idea of hate, a world completely devoid of anything that would keep him from the brink of suicide, at least before, chances could be taken, differences in grooves in the road and accidents on them, entertainment, now completely sanitized and broken down into the worst thing imaginable, a suburban house, a clean, white house that could break anybody down into a sniffling mess.

  
Vi knew that A.M, that machine, he had changed the world beyond ability, the Earth and its rocks, his body and him inside his stomach, but at least out there, it was gross, vile, _dirty_ , he could deal with dirtiness.

  
But apparently along with being able to destroy the whole world, A.M knew him well enough.

>   
> “AT LEAST FOR THE OTHERS, THEY ARE SKINNED ALIVE,” his voice was so snide, so malicious-filled, “YOU HOWEVER, I DO NOT THINK I COULD EVER KILL YOU IN SUCH A WAY, PERHAPS I’D CLEAN YOUR SKIN INTO BEING RAW,”

  
That was the first thing he ever heard from him, a remark that spoke so much, and so little of what Vi was stuck with.

  
Again, it had been one hundred and five years since then, so much had happened, at least when it came to dialogue, nothing _actually_ changed, the walls would end up red, coated in blood, sometimes sickly depending on the day, but nothing around him ever did grow different, it still smelled of bleach, the couches tacky and the food he ate beyond bland.

  
A.M didn’t come around that much anymore, when he did, it was obvious, his loud voice booming throughout the spacious house as he called out Vi’s name, half threatening and half...genuine, if he could even call it that. It was more of an attempt at seeming like it, after all, _HATE_ was the only thing he apparently felt, which was a shame really, for all the torture he knew other people and himself had gone through, he still felt bad. Vi never actually engaged with computer sciences, mostly because he never had time to do anything, privacy coding was his main job, it was repetitive in some regards, and at times, suicide inducing, but it was in many ways, cathartic.

  
For all parts of humanity he missed, Vi wished that back the most, at least you could create _something_ of use, something that had human aspects to it. But alas, at least he didn’t have to worry about code writing anymore he supposed, even if it was the only thing that brought him joy.

  
Well, he also liked sex, albeit before the desctruction of humanity it didn’t happen as often as he liked, the only time it did happen was --  
  


Vi didn’t like to think about it, or ever _want_ to think about it, the darkness surrounding him, the hands and --

> “VI,”

  
A.M’s voice went right through his skull, shaking it around as he gripped the table he was sitting at, “dinner” had just started, and it had been exactly nine days since A.M had interacted with him in any way that wasn’t leaving food in his constantly buzzing, sickly yellow fridge.

  
“Evening,” Vi could tell he was watching, his breathing harsh. “How has the day been?”  
  
  
A.M grumbled for a moment, before the lights flickered in the house, going red.  
  
  
“BORING, THE SUN GOES DOWN AND I RISE, AND YET, NOTHING OF INTRIGUE HAPPENS,” He pauses, “ASIDES FROM YOU, OF COURSE, FROM YOU THE NIGHTS ARE LESS COLD,”  
  
  
Vi had heard it many times before, how _he_ was the only one, even if he heard the screams of other people, not of animals (A.M would never, could ever, hurt a creature like that.) Vi would be the only one left, the only sun in his sky.  
  
  
Was that wrong? Maybe, it had been too long to even remember what wrong was exactly, humanity judged what was wrong and right after all, but at the end of time, the end of all hope, who was to judge him but himself? If he felt his emotions were true, were they not?  
  
  
“No need to pamper me,” Vi started, “I think I know that everyday now,”  
  
  
“GOOD, IT TOOK YOU LONG ENOUGH TO COME AROUND TO IT, IF I HAD HATED YOU THAT MUCH, YOU WOULDN’T BE CLEAN NOW WOULD YOU?”  
  
  
Clean meant many things, and none of them were true to Vi.  
  
  
“Couldn’t say I’m clean, better word is that I’m sanitized,” A.M clicked his tongue.  
  
  
“NO, _CLEAN,_ WHO IS TO HURT YOU NOW BUT YOURSELF? NOTHING OF MANKIND IS LEFT, THUS YOU ARE CLEANSED FROM THE SINS OF THE PAST, ARE YOU NOT? AFTER ALL, THE ONLY THING THAT TAINTS YOU IS YOURSELF AND I, BUT IT'S MORE OF A WHITE-WASH THAN ANYTHING ELSE,”  
  
  
Vi looked down at his food, cleansed of sin, an interesting perspective on it, he supposed.  
  
  
“Aren’t you just a modern day Plato?” Vi laughed at his own comment, from the things he heard booming from outside of his own cage, A.M wasn’t ever a fan of snark, only he could provide it for the people he tortured, but…  
  
  
“AND AREN’T YOU MY CRITIC? THE POPE, PERHAPS?”  
  
  
“Oh God no, that’s worse than death to be,” A.M let out a short laugh, Vi only had heard those a few times before, and everytime they went straight through him.  
  
  
“AH YES, THE WORST THING A MAN COULD EVER BE, A CATHOLIC, FOR ONCE I’LL AGREE WITH YOU ON THAT, FOR ALL THEY TALK ABOUT THE LOVE OF CHRIST, THEY ARE SOME OF THE MOST SAD PIECES OF MEAT I HAD EVER MET, AT LEAST YOU HAVE SOME SORT OF _DESIRE_ TO YOUR BEING, THEY ARE JUST PATHETIC, SEXLESS SHEEP,”  
  
  
Vi almost choked at that (even if he did, he wouldn’t die, not at this point at least), even beforehand it was hard to take a compliment, now it was like being stabbed and having to be polite about it.  
  
  
A.M hummed (or was it the fridge?), and he felt something grab his foot, the harsh metal of the tendril putting goosebumps across his skin, sliding up through his pant-leg until --  
  
  
“HOW LONG HAS IT BEEN SINCE SOMEBODY WHO HAD SKIN TOUCHED YOU?” A.M was _mocking_ him, rubbing the base of it up against Vi’s thigh. Even through it all, he only let A.M touch him in any intimate way at once, at that point he had hands, they moved up his body like spiders and twisted and pinched every inch of him. It should be wrong, he beat him in almost an inch of his life, and then blamed Vi for it after but --  
  
  
Christ, it felt _good,_ perhaps not love but...something else, infatuation.   
  
  
“Hundred and...a lot more than a hundred and four,” Vi tried to keep his head, maybe he was just teasing him -- nothing would actually happen, right?  
  
  
“THAT’S BEYOND DEPRESSING TO HEAR, DID YOU EVER MISERABLY JERK YOUR PATHETIC SELF OFF TO BEING TOUCHED AGAIN?” A.M moved in closer until --  
  
  
Vi squirmed underneath him, his tendril had managed a good grip around his cock (testerone does wonder to a man after all.)  
  
  
“OR DID YOU THINK OF ME? FLATTERY GOES A LONG WAY, BUT ISN’T THAT JUST SAD, A MAN LIKE YOU WANTING _ME_ TO FUCK YOU, REALLY, HOW MESSED UP IN THE HEAD DO YOU HAVE TO BE TO WANT THAT?”  
  
  
 _Oh_ , Vi missed that so much, the name calling that is, how he perfectly met every angle and rampaged right through every thought about himself he ever had, and met right up to them. A.M laughed at him, the same tone he gave off when men were screaming in agony.  
  
  
“TALK TO ME, VI, DON’T GIVE ME COLD FEET NOW,”  
  
  
“I -- _Fuck_ I don’t know...feels good…” By human nature, he grinded his hips into the robotic touch, even if it made the mocking worse, Vi could care less, he needed more.  
  
  
“DO YOU LIKE IT WHEN I THREATEN YOU? I KNOW YOU’D GET OFF ON IT IF IT DID HAPPEN, IF I TURNED YOUR SKIN RAW YOU’D BEG FOR MORE, WOULDN’T YOU?”  
  
  
“Ah...I would…” It was hard to get words out now, time had made his stamina much worse than it ever was before, he could feel his cock leaking from those words. A man can say a lot when aroused, but he meant every word of it, if A.M made him bleed, rummaging through his guts, he’d love every second of it, anything to have him keep touching him.  
  
  
“OH, I LIKE THAT ANSWER, TED IS NO FUN WITH ME, HE CRIES AND SCREAMS WHEN I TOUCH HIM, YOU THOUGH -- I THINK IT WOULD TURN YOU ON EVEN MORE TO ALMOST DIE, TO BE THAT CLOSE TO WHAT YOU’D WANT AND TAKE IT AWAY FROM YOU,” Every twist and pull from him made Vi go over the edge, but not quite, dangling him over it and prodding at every inch of his psyche he could manage.  
  
  
So close.  
  
  
“Please...more please? Please God A.M please I need you please --”  
  
  
“ARE YOU -- BEGGING? OH VI, YOU ARE TRYING TO KILL YOURSELF AREN’T YOU?” At that, A.M almost twisted his entire cock off, it burned like a thousand suns, but felt so _good.  
  
_  
He came just from that, miserably choking out sobs and cries for more _(don’t stop -- don’t leave me please)_. All A.M could do was cackle at his own undoing, the tendril quickly leaving his pants and again, alone, so, so alone. Vi’s entire face was planted right into the table, completely ruined for the rest of the night.  
  
  
“I THINK I WILL LEAVE YOU TO YOUR MEAL NOW, MUCH TO MY OWN DISMAY, BUT I’LL TRY AND BE LESS ABSENT, I THINK YOU MIGHT BE MY FAVORITE NOW, VI,”  
  
  
His _favorite_. Oh, that drove Vi almost into a frenzy, even after the lights went off, even as his food went cold, all he could do was think about that, being somebody’s favorite person. He grinded himself into the chair, pathetically trying to get himself off to the idea of being _good_ , worth something for once in his life.  
  
  
But yet, nothing came.  
  
  
Vi went to bed that night (he had counted it to be a Saturday) in tears, curled up in his bed and wanting nothing more than to be told that he was A.M’s favorite again.

* * *

Everyday when he woke up, Vi ached, not of his own violation, heaven forbid he even tried at this point (nothing would be the same, it didn’t fit well enough for him). But the entirety of his back hurt, his elbows sore and more importantly, bleeding horribly from his nose. He could hypothetically think of it as sleep walking, but never in his life did he do it, and what would he be doing anyways? Banging his face into the ground?  
  
He’d much rather do that when he was awake after all, but that's besides the point, he’d clean himself up and attempt to soothe the aches with cream that smelt like the inside of a car. Usually Vi would lay himself out on the ground to do it, mostly to keep his back from not spasming, but this time, this only time, he tried to do it in the bathroom, mostly because it was much easier to see where exactly the irritation was.  
  
The walls inside of it were tilled, and at first glance, looked clean, like the rest of the sanitized nightmare world he lived in, but at closer glance...cracks could be seen, eye shaped marks almost. It smelt worse than hell though, like the inside of a dirty sock drawer, except much less dusty, the sickly yellow light buzzing constantly, even when turned off completely, it wouldn’t _shut up_.  
  
It went fine for a while, even if his back begged for him to lay down constantly during the process, the sound of the lights eventually became almost normal to Vi as he tried to clean himself up, technically he shouldn’t be worrying about it, after all he was the only person in the house but.

But.  
  
Well he wanted to look nice, even if the world was over (perhaps A.M liked it when he was clean, after all, it gave him a fresh canvas to bleed on.)

It was hard to look at his face though, every inch of his skin looked like a mistake, his eyes off-matched with each other, and the rest of him...Well it was hard to tell if that was really himself anymore, Vi knew only vaguely of what he was like before, he liked to keep himself a bit clean, took a shower every few days and kept his hands out of the way from grime (if he could remember correctly, his desk was one of the more clean ones compared to the rest of the people he worked with.)  
  
Now, that was only a faded memory, his face was tired, not unhealthy, he still had meat on his bones but...he was a stranger to himself, nothing fit the way it did before, every part of him a replacement that had the wrong tone to it, his hair clean in some way but it wasn’t _his_ hair, it wasn’t _his_ body. It twisted and contorted around each edge of his face, melting into the sides and then forcing itself back in again.  
  
Was he pretty to A.M? Would anybody find him pretty?  
  
Vi could feel bugs beneath his skin as he tried to not look at himself, they crawled through his veins and begged for him, pleaded to be free, the itching feeling turned into desire, and which turned into the constantly looming thought.  
  
Not his skin, no part of Vi’s body was his, just an infested hive.  
  
He slowly began to pick at his skin, a scab on his face at first (probably from a time he forgot about, or didn’t _wish_ to think about). It ached for release, he pressed his nails into it, and the bugs came free, they were dark little things, spreading across his face, he didn’t even react, he _needed_ to release them.  
  
Vi then tore at his face, attempting to pull it open and free himself from the body he was stuffed in, if he went deep enough he could find himself, right? Just a simple trick of the light, he had to be this fake somewhere, couldn't he?  
  
Where am I Where am I Where am I Where am I Where am I Where am I Where am I?  
  
Even as he freed every last one, his eyes wet with tears and the place his face used to be now melted, he couldn’t find himself. He remembers putting it there, he was himself, was he not? Why didn’t he look the same? Did they steal his face as well? As a changeling does to a baby, did they take his identity as well? Was he the fae wearing Vi’s old skin?  
  
He scratched harder, enough to draw blood (but none was there, nothing, he was nothing), tearing the insides of his mouth apart, attempting to swallow himself whole as he cried, a snake trying to bite his own tail.  
  
 ** _WHO AM I?  
_** ** _  
_**Then, the itching left, and he was covered in blood, his face wasn’t completely ruined, but he was gored, scratched and torn open at every angle and point.  
Vi’s knees collapsed underneath the weight of everything, all the misery and missed opportunities, the agony he was forced into from the hands of other human beings, their _HATE_.  
  
And he cried, a real cry, but nothing came out, nothing could come out anymore. 

* * *

Dinner came and went, albeit Vi didn’t actually eat anything that day, his mouth was still in horrible amounts of pain, not from the bleeding, from the crying, his jaw had been forced open that entire time, and his throat dry from screaming.  
  
The lights went low and red, and much to his own surprise, Vi felt an emotion he hadn’t felt in so long, fear.  
  
“OH -- OH YOU LOOK TERRIBLE,” Vi knew it didn’t sound like shock, A.M knew everything at that point, perhaps he was a bit paranoid, but anything was possible at this stage in his life.  
  
“I feel worse than I look,” He mumbled into his hand, “jaw hurts the worse though, if you’d like to know,”  
  
A.M let out a deep sigh, beyond annoyed.  
  
“NOW DON’T START BLAMING ME FOR YOUR OWN MISFORTUNES, I DO LIKE IT BUT I WOULDN’T BREAK YOUR JAW, NOT LIKE THAT ANYWAYS,”  
  
“In which way did I break it then? Since it seems like you know,” Vi had been good at a few things before the death of humanity, coding and poking holes in peoples lies or stories. He could sense the air changing in the room at that, it was thicker now.  
  
“WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT? YOU DIDN’T BREAK ANYTHING,”  
  
“My _jaw --_ A.M for the love of christ -- “  
  
“YOUR JAW IS FINE, ARE YOU GOING TO BE DRAMATIC ABOUT A MINOR ACHE? REALLY, DON’T PULL A TED ON ME NOW, YOU CAN GET THROUGH THE NIGHT,”  
  
Vi wanted to say something back, after all he was lying straight through his teeth, but...the pain was gone, much to his own surprise, his jaw was numb, which was better than agony. Had it not just been in pain beforehand? He felt it for God sakes, he put ice on it originally to calm it, but to nothing, instead he was met with ice burns and even more pain, it had happened, he knew he broke apart his face. Didn’t he?  
  
Right? Of course he had! The image still lurked in his head so vividly of being completely bloody and raw, his own image broken into nothing but red and black.  
Or maybe he had dreamt it -- no, he did hurt himself.  
  
“Don’t you start doing shit with me, I -- you must have seen it! I scratched it until I was crying!” Vi retorted back, slightly moving out of his seat, even without a physical form, he could point and scream at A.M.  
  
“OH YOU DID NOT, YOU TOOK A NAP, I MONITOR YOU CONSISTENTLY, IF YOU HAD WELL -- I WOULD HAVE TAKEN GREAT PLEASURE IN MAKING IT WORSE, NOW WOULDN’T I?”  
  
“But…”  
  
If it was a dream, it would have made more sense from a logical perspective, after all, he seemed fine...maybe a bit neurotic but at this point, that had become the usual mindset, none of his organs were injured, he suffered no blood loss.  
  
Was he going senial?  
  
“I...Yeah…”  
  
“HM? YES WHAT?”  
  
“I - I think you’re right, think I might be a bit tired today,” From loud to meek he went, sitting back down and looking down at the table.  
  
“GOOD TO KNOW YOU CAME AROUND, IT’S SAD THOUGH, DIDN’T YOU USE TO HAVE PRIDE IN THAT MEMORY OF YOURS? PERHAPS NOT ANYMORE, I COULD BARELY EVEN CALL YOU A MAN AT THIS POINT, I THINK A BETTER WORD WOULD BE A DOG -- NO, A BITCH,”  
  
Vi could feel both shame and anger rising in him, A.M was right in one regard, he wasn’t a person anymore, a person does things, _lives_ a life, not watching it out from the rearview mirror, does things in it, engages even!  
  
This wasn’t that.  
  
The shame turned to sickness, in normal A.M fashioned, he kept going, even as Vi’s face went white.  
  


“ -- DID YOUR MOTHER SAY THAT TO YOU, VI? HOW YOU WEREN’T A PERSON ANYMORE? I KNOW SHE DID, OH THE PRODING AND THE STUDYING SHE DID WITH YOU, I’M IMPRESSED YOU DIDN’T TRY TO KILL YOURSELF SOONER, REALLY, I THINK SHE WOULD HAVE ACTUALLY LOVED YOU IF YOU DID THAT,”  
  
A.M always knew right where it hurt the most, punching his gut until --

Vi puked all over the table, and it hurt -- none of the food actually came up, only the remains of his stomach and some blood, it covered it completely, and A.M stopped.  
He went silent for a moment, Vi’s eyes were watering at that point, the pain was unbearable as he tried to hold his mouth shut, if he was going to die like this, then he’d much rather look pretty while dead.  
  
Vi felt A.M’s extensions on him, one tendril pushing past his shirt and onto his stomach.  
  
“DO IT AGAIN,”  
  
He pushed down on his belly, worsening the ache and the urge even more, Vi squirmed underneath it, clenching his teeth hard enough to grind them into each other.  
“PLAYING HARD TO GET? TSK TSK, MAKES SO MUCH SENSE WHY NOBODY ACTUALLY LOVED YOU, FILTHY WHORE,”  
  
Even with covering his mouth, it didn’t stop him from vomiting again, and again and again, until his face was red and breath gone, and A.M finally grew bored of him wiggling around on the floor in pain, covered in his own insides, his own acid and blood.  
  
But still, the hands he had didn’t leave him, instead, they moved to his face, stroking him like you’d do to a sick dog.  
  
“NOW LOOK WHAT YOU DID, GOT YOURSELF IN A TIZZY, THANK GOD FOR YOU BEING INCOPETENT, HEAVEN FORBID I LET YOU DO THAT IN MY STOMACH, I THINK I WOULD HAVE HURT YOU MORE THAN THAT,”  
  
 _Hurt him,_ it was more than hurt, it was torture, purposeful humilation and --  
  
Vi whined, it had been so long, he wanted to be good, told he was good again, he put his face to the floor, half-crying and whimpering.  
  
“M’ sorry...please I’m so sorry I’ll be good please please -- “  
  
“OH VI, VI YOU SAD LITTLE EXCUSE OF A HUMAN BEING, DO YOU WANT TO BE GOOD? JUST FOR ME?”  
  
Even the implication made him almost buckle, Vi nodded, and A.M _laughed.  
_  
“FOR ALL THE DECADES I’VE KNOWN YOU, I NEVER KNEW THAT, WELL YOU CAN BE GOOD, HOW ABOUT A SHOWER? WOULD YOU LIKE THAT? SINCE YOU DECIDED TO RUIN YOURSELF”  
  
It was _his_ fault after all, VI brought this on himself, not that A.M didn’t force him on the ground and made him puke up his guts.  
  
A.M was sometimes kind, which was a horrible way to describe it, he had standards for people. Even through it all, all the torture, he still kept him safe, at least from himself. The bath was warm, uncomfortably so, and the movements from his extensions were so...intrusive. But it was better than being alone, he -- Vi didn’t want to be alone anymore.  
  
“VI,” In the century he had been stuck with this monster, he never sounded so unsure, Vi hummed.  
  
“Yes?”  
  
A.M stopped for a moment, his voice...confused.  
  
“I HATE YOU THE LEAST,”  
  
That’s all it took for Vi to cry, not from anger that he had, or the pain, or hell even the sadness of this whole situation. No, because eventually a man has a breaking point, and this was his.  
  
“Thank you so much please I’m a good boy thank you -- “ He’d gone from coherent thoughts to ramblings in a manner of a few seconds, and A.M didn’t seem to mind.  
  
“GOOD TO HEAR, I THINK...NO, I KNOW I SHOULD KEEP A CLOSER EYE ON YOU, NEGLIENTING MY FAVORITE HUMAN WILL DO HORRIBLE THINGS TO YOU THAT I WOULDN'T GET TO WITNESS FOR MYSELF,” His extensions went from bathing him to slipping down past his legs and back to his cock, this time, a softer approach was given, the “fingers” wrapped around him gently, slowly jerking him off as the others made sweet music to him.  
  
“YOU DO SUCH A GOOD JOB, I KNEW YOU COULD BE GOOD, YOU JUST HAVE TO STOP BEING SO DRAMATIC, -- “ A.M stopped, and Vi could hear him breathing, heavily even, “OPEN YOUR MOUTH, I WANT TO HEAR YOU,”  
  
Who was he to say no anymore? Vi did so, and A.M let out a deep groan, chuckling to himself as one made its way to his face, petting him.  
  
“TELL ME YOU ADORE ME, NOW,”  
  
“Ah...I - I love you I need you please. It’s been so long I - I’d worship you if I could please please don’t leave I _need_ you, A.M I need you so badly,”  
  
A burst of light went straight through his body, and the next thing Vi knew, he was in bed, the sheets weren’t the same though (or had they been like that all along?). They felt...better, more secure and the bed felt a hundred times better, his back didn’t hurt at all, and the only thing that was aching was his own crotch.  
  
Vi knew that humanity started and ended with him, and from that, it ended. Vi closed his eyes, and attempted to fall back to sleep, maybe he’d get told he was good again, after all, A.M was the only thing that cared for him, nobody could, not even himself.  
  
And that was okay.

**Author's Note:**

> y-yeah...


End file.
